


Fishbone Pub

by fishbone76



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 19:46:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9841229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishbone76/pseuds/fishbone76
Summary: 2179 was the year Samantha Traynor graduated from Oxford University (in my headcanon at least). She worked in a bar to pay for any expenses during her study time. One day a special guest showed up.I cannot thank ZoeAmory over from Deviantart enough for writing this little piece. She's a treasure :3





	

                                                                 

“Sorry, but we’re out of bourbon, we didn’t have that many bottles stocked up, and we didn’t expect such a rush,” Sam apologized to the man, “Would Jack Daniel’s do? I realize it's not a bourbon, but...” she then trailed off as he lit a cigarette and inhaled the smoke deeply.

“I’ll take it, it’s not the quality of the drinks I came here for,” the man dismissed with a half smile. Sam wasn’t sure if she liked that smile or if she considered it the kind of a smile you’d receive from a predator the moment before it devours you.

“Then, what brings you here?” Sam inquired, poured the shot and slid the glass over the counter.

“You do, Traynor,” the man responded, knocked back the drink and nodded, silently encouraging Sam to refill the glass.

“How do you know my name?” she asked quietly as she poured the alcohol and the man smiled again, wider this time, the cigarette smoke escaping from between his teeth as he exhaled reminding Sam of a dragon of some kind.

"Are you a friend of professor Farnsworth's?" she had to ask then. The professor had suggested to Sam that she applies for one of the big tech companies once she'd served her required years with the Alliance, maybe the professor had told someone about her and they'd decided to come meet her in person. Maybe he was from Eldfell-Ashland or Vault-tec. Maybe he was here because he'd discovered Sam's name in the latest ANN magazine that had listed a bunch of students who were finishing their studies with exemplary grades. Maybe he'd already interviewed a bunch of other students and Sam was just another name on his list.

...then again, the way his mere presence made Sam's forearms rise to goosebumps -and not in a good way- made her think this man was more than just a random talent scout.

“I make it my business to know a lot of things, and speaking of business, I could use a genius like you working for me,” he said.

“Flattery won’t help your case because even if I were interested, I still haven’t served my required years with the Alliance,” Sam quirked an eyebrow.

“Perhaps,” the man said, emptied his glass and ordered a third one, “but I am a patient man and I also know that having your genius working for me would be well worth the wait,” he continued as Sam refilled his glass.

“Again, I’m sorry, but I must decline your offer, I’m bound by my contract with the Alliance.”

“For now. I do admire your loyalty and wouldn’t mind seeing that too working for me. You do realize I would be able to pay you tenfold what the Alliance would.”

“Hm, yes, and I’m sure you know that loyalty isn’t something that can be bought... or at the very least the loyalty you _have_ bought is worthless, because they’re not loyal to you, they’re loyal to your wallet,” Sam smirked and the man chuckled, more cigarette smoke seeping from his mouth as he did.

                                                                                           

“Smart and wise. I knew there’s a reason I liked you,” he smiled, finished his third drink and put out his cigarette before standing up and immediately lighting another one. He paid for the drinks and offered a mighty fine tip too. Sam quirked an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.

“Well... if you ever change your mind, let me know,” he said and turned sharply, heading toward the exit.

“How? I don’t even know who you are,” Sam frowned and he paused by the door, glancing over his shoulder.  
“Trust me, I’ll find a way to keep in touch.”

 


End file.
